"

Minetti made no comment. "I see you have bought a pistol," he observed.

"Yes," replied Suvaroff.

"You have wasted your money, my young friend," declared the hunchback.
"You will never use it."

With that Minetti left the room. Suvaroff laid the pistol on the table
and threw himself upon the bed. He lay there without moving until
morning.... Toward six o'clock he rose. He went over to the table and
deliberately put the pistol to his temple. The coldness of the muzzle
sent a tremor through him.... He put down the weapon in disgust.

* * *

Suvaroff stayed away from the wine-shop for two nights, but finally the
memory of its fascinating shadows lured him back. The fat bartender saw
him enter, and came forward with a bottle of brandy. Suvaroff smiled
grimly and said nothing. He turned his back upon the company and began
to watch the shadows enter and disappear. To-night the puppets seemed
more whimsical than grotesque, and once he nearly laughed. A shadow with
an enormous nose appeared; and a fly, as big as a bumblebee, lit upon
the nose and sat rubbing its legs together in insolent content. A hand,
upraised, struck at the fly. The nose disappeared as if completely
annihilated by the blow, while the fly hovered safely aloof. Feeling
encouraged, Suvaroff took another drink. But the more he drank the less
genial were the shadows, and by midnight they all had become as sinister
and terrible as ever.

On the way home to his room Suvaroff suddenly remembered that he had a
friend who was a druggist.

"Perhaps he can give me something to make me sleep," Suvaroff muttered.

But the drug-store was closed. Suvaroff climbed wearily up the stairs of
the Hotel des Alpes Maritimes. Minetti was sitting on the steps near the
third landing.

"I was preparing to go home," said the hunchback. "What kept you so
late?"

"I went around another way," answered Suvaroff. "I thought I might get
something from a druggist friend to help me sleep."

They stood before the door of Suvaroff's room. Suvaroff opened the door
and they went in.

"Sleeping-powders are dangerous," observed Minetti, throwing his hat
upon the bed.

"So I fancied," replied Suvaroff, dryly.

"Where do you spend your nights?" Minetti demanded suddenly.

Suvaroff sat down. "Watching shadows in a wine-shop."

"Ah--a puppet show!"

"No, not exactly. I will explain.... No; come to think of it, there is
no explanation. But it is extremely amusing. To-night, f